


To see and be seen, to have loved and lost.

by Lawless_bard



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blindness, Canon Era, First Kiss, First Time, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I made up a curse that doesn't exist, Kind of..., Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Sad Ending, Whump, but Arthur kind of knew already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25971256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawless_bard/pseuds/Lawless_bard
Summary: Written for Kinkalot 2020 - Main Challenge 1: Five SensesWhen the lights went out for Merlin, he never imagined what it would mean.The touch on his arm was profound, his entire being focused in on it. Merlin wished dearly that his sleeve was further rolled up so that he might feel the prince’s contact on his bare skin. His head dipped involuntarily towards Arthur and he breathed him in. He was sweet grass, pale sunshine, and cooling sweat. He imagined him, glowing a little from the field, eyes bright from the exertion, and slightly damp, the perspiration making his hair curl at his temples and at the nape of his neck.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78
Collections: Kinkalot 2020





	To see and be seen, to have loved and lost.

When the lights went out for Merlin, he never imagined what it would mean.

Nearly a year ago, Merlin intercepted a curse intended for Prince Arthur which left him blinded. Although he knew he could likely lift the curse with the aid of his magic, King Uther had seen him take the blast with his own eyes, and so he knew that curing himself would provide irrefutable evidence of the fact that he was a sorcerer. The best-case scenario would be a quick death by the sword, the worst case, and more likely one, would be death on the pyre.

At least accommodations had been made for him so that he could continue to work under Gaius’ instruction as his assistant. Unfortunately, he was no longer fit to be Arthur’s manservant. Initially, he had thought that this would make life easier, but he was drowning. The weight of his burdens magnified in the darkness, and his loneliness was tangible. The ability to gaze upon the golden-haired prince, with his pale blue eyes and soft smile was gone, and it was too much.

He lay in his room, knowing that he would be in the way despite Gaius’ insistence that it was useful to have someone to talk through his medical remedy ideas with. He heard him calling for him again and blew out a sigh. Merlin heaved himself up, felt his way through his tiny room, and pulled the door open.

“Here he is for you sire.”

“Ah Merlin, just the man, Gaius is busy at the moment but said you would be able to patch me up.”

Merlin frowned in the general direction of Arthur’s voice, “Sure, but I don’t see how I can be of any help. Wouldn’t it be better just to wait?”

He could hear Arthur’s exasperation, “Nonsense, I’ve got to get to the council meeting as soon as possible,” but in a softer voice he added, “Come on I only need a bandage and Gaius has laid everything out already.”

The medical room was easy enough to move around in and Merlin knew that Arthur would be sat on the heavy wooden chair near the fire. He made his way over there, pausing to feel over the various jars and rolls of clean linen on the table nearby.

“So, what happened, training accident? Did somebody get the better of you for once?”

Arthur huffed a small laugh and it made Merlin’s chest flutter slightly, he wished he could see the smile that he knew accompanied it.

“Morgana is making me train her, and she’s a little vicious.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Yes, you should see her with a…” Arthur cut himself off with a dry cough. “She’s actually very good, but just caught me on the shoulder. Next time I’ll wear my full armour I think.”

Merlin tried not to react, it was only a slip of the tongue after all, but then the image of George helping Arthur with his armour turned his stomach sour. He should be used to it by now he thought bitterly. Merlin shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the look he knew he must be sporting and concentrated on his task. With Arthur’s direction, he managed to clean the wound, cover it with an ointment to avoid infection, and bandage it.

“Hey,” Arthur brushed his arm gently, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, honestly.”

The touch on his arm was profound, his entire being focused in on it. Merlin wished dearly that his sleeve was further rolled up so that he might feel the prince’s contact on his bare skin. His head dipped involuntarily towards Arthur and he breathed him in. He was sweet grass, pale sunshine, and cooling sweat. He imagined him, glowing a little from the field, eyes bright from the exertion, and slightly damp, the perspiration making his hair curl at his temples and at the nape of his neck.

Arthur rubbed his arm briefly once more then withdrew his fingers, Merlin’s forlorn look must have shown somehow because rather than simply thanking him and leaving, Arthur asked, “Keep me company later?” Merlin nodded in reply.

In the early days of his curse Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, and Gwen had poured tirelessly over Geoffrey’s books searching for something to counter-act it. Gaius had even hinted several times to King Uther that only a magical cure would have any effect. The requests were all immediately shot down, much to everyone’s dismay but no-one’s surprise. For weeks after Arthur had insisted that Merlin could be his same old self and continue in his role as manservant, jokes about how he was surprisingly more careful and less clumsy even made him laugh. That was until Merlin had poured wine over a guest during the harvest feast, a minor and completely forgivable offence in the eyes of most, but the last resort for the king who couldn’t bare the impropriety of constant accidents in front of visitors any longer. It wasn’t the fact that he had been reprieved of his role, or even that it was George who had taken it – although that had indeed stung. No, it was the painfully gentle way Arthur had privately explained it to him, and then held him when he had silently wept. Merlin hadn’t visited Arthur’s chamber once since that evening, but here Arthur was, requesting for him to do just that.

He really did try to hold it together, but Arthur had offered him warm mead, which he had accepted, and put his hand in his, which he held tightly.

“I just I _miss_ you,” he choked out. Merlin felt tears pricking his eyes. He swatted them shamefully away.

“I miss you too,” Arthur pulled away from Merlin and knelt by the fire, carefully banking up the coals. Merlin heard the scrape and crackle of them and wondered how many other chores Arthur did for himself nowadays, rather than calling for George. He continued, “Things aren’t the same around here without your wit, and that smile.”

Merlin wiped his nose on the back of his hand, “Gods I just wish I could just look at you, just once more even… I don’t know, it feels like I’m forgetting everyone, everything. I try to picture you in my mind but it’s never quite right.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” Arthur replied softly. Merlin felt a hand close on his shoulder; he gripped it back like a lifeline.

“I know, it’s just…”

Beloved hands enclosed his own, bringing them up to Arthur’s face, lips, nose, brow, chin, and jaw. They carefully let go to allow Merlin to room freely over his features. The fire crackled in the hearth while Arthur’s breathing remained calm and steady. Merlin’s long fingers drifted over his ears, into his hair, down his neck. They moved across his strong shoulders and down his powerful arms. He leaned closer to inhale his scent and felt Arthur swallow when he touched the tip of his nose to his Adam’s apple. Merlin choked back a sob at the unintended intimacy.

“Merlin,” he said, hands cupping his friend’s delicate face, “if you want to see, then… maybe you can.” He watched Merlin’s sorrowful features reform into confusion, then fear. “I _know_ Merlin, what you did for me, the cost, Gaius said…”

“Gaius…?”

“…said that only magic would lift it, but that _you_ would find away. What do you think that means?”

Merlin tried to pull his face away, to escape, “I don’t… Arthur please…”

Arthur let go but rested both his hands on Merlin’s shoulders, “If you have the power to see, then use it,” He sighed, “You took this curse instead of me, you don’t deserve it, and Merl,” His voiced hitched, “Merlin I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Merlin’s magic rippled in distress under his skin. Arthur pulled him into an embrace, the stubble on his cheek grazed his own.

“Look at me, use your magic,” the words were harmlessly whispered, an innocent caress in his sensitive ear. Arthur held him tightly to him, “– _sorcerer_.”

His heart nearly gave out, the drumming of it deafening his ears and surely Arthur’s too. If only he could _see_ him, read his face, know what unsaid words shone in his eyes. But that was rather the point wasn’t it? Merlin exhaled a quivering breath, _“Edhwierft gesih_ _þ.”_

Arthur eyes widened as he felt tendrils of ice and fire reaching for his soul, he remained steady in the onslaught of yet another inexplicable impossibility – Merlin’s clouded blue eyes suddenly flashing, terrifyingly, beautifully gold.

“Oh!” they both breathed.

Merlin blinked his tear stained eyes at Arthur, “ _There_ you are.”

“And there you are, finally,” he replied with a tiny smile, eyes bright and sad, “so this is the real you?”

“Yes,” he murmured, staring at his features, drinking him in greedily, he saw his own golden eyes reflected in Arthur’s sky-blue ones, “this is me.”

The prince was silent for a few moments before slowly his smile widened. “Yes, it is. I always knew there was something about you.”

Hope coiled within Merlin, terrible and dangerous like the glittering snake it was. He wanted more, he wanted to be known. He pulled Arthur in, pressing his lean frame against Arthur’s broad one and touching their lips together. “This is me too,” he whispered, adrenaline and magic spiralled together in his veins, threatening to pour out to caress or claw at the Once and Future King, and Merlin let it.

Arthur drew him out and held him at arm’s length. Several emotions crossed his face, a little furrow in his brow deepened. His tongue dipped out to his lip, tasting. Merlin watched each movement carefully, relishing in his newfound ability to do so. Suddenly, his lips were met with equal passion, he let out a small moan as Arthur trailed his lips and teeth sweetly across his lower lip, jaw, and neck. Mouths met again, tongues glided together, their bodies pressed more fervently into each other and wandering hands fisted in clothes and hair, tugging and pulling in between small nods of _yes_ , and _please_ , and _more_.

“Take me to bed,” Merlin whispered, a question and a command.

It was too much and not enough at the same time, the sliding heat of their bodies, the taste of each other’s moans, the utterly intoxicating tang of Arthur’s sex as Merlin leaned to kiss him there. At Merlin’s insistence, Arthur worked his spit covered fingers inside him, prising him open, and pinning him down with his weight. He keened and shuddered as Arthur entered him, but he gripped him tightly, pulling him inside and welcoming the burn. Arthur hissed as his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle that initially resisted him.

 _Fuck me, fuck me, love me._ He prayed silently to his prince, but Arthur was slow and gentle and kind. He stilled, gazing at Merlin in awe, and stroked his cheek with the hand that wasn’t supporting him. So loving, so soft. His soul lifted; his magic roared. _More_. He had been cut off from his sight and by proxy his magic for so long and now it was free, and it wanted Arthur for itself. It called to the ancient magic within the unknowing prince and Merlin could only obey. He hooked a leg over his shoulder, pressing a heel into his back urgently. _More_. With a pulse of magic, he flipped them both. Merlin rode him, grinding wildly, Arthur gripped his thighs desperately.

“Please Merlin, please – I…” Arthur pushed at his hips, breath stuttering.

Merlin yanked back his magic and libido like the wild animals they were to concentrate. Arthur was flushed, panting, eyes wide. He was no longer pushing Merlin’s hips away but digging in his fingers as if to keep him there.

“What do you need?”

“I need _you_ , where’d you go?”

Merlin thought he understood. He took Arthur’s hand in his and pressed it to his heart, an apology, a sigh. Arthur rested it there for a moment before reaching up and pulling Merlin down to meet his lips. Merlin let him reset their pace and _oh_ that was so much sweeter, so exquisitely deep, and filled with such aching promise. He felt his magic settling, wrapping around them both and caressing Arthur’s lovingly.

“Look at me,” Arthur gasped reaching for him. Merlin tried he really did, but his release was overwhelming. He opened his eyes in time to see his lover screwing his own desperately shut as he spilled inside him.

He stared down at the prince for a long time, feeling him soften inside him and heart clenching at the imminent physical separation of their bodies, but Arthur folded him into his arms. “Merlin, my Merlin, oh there you are.”

Merlin awoke entwined amongst the disarray of their lovemaking with the harsh pale morning highlighting purple kisses on his sticky body. It took him a moment of sleep addled confusion for his eyes to get used to the light. He smiled into the soft pillows remembering the events of the night before, then frowned as he glanced around the room only to find Arthur with his back to him, standing at the window. He must have sensed Merlin waking as he turned slightly but did not look at him. Merlin watched him swallow and tilted his head in concern as he noticed Arthur’s red rimmed eyes and rigid jaw.

A trembling voice cracked his soul, “You have to leave.” The words hit him and landed heavily in his chest.

“You’re… banishing me?”

“No, no I…” Arthur was using that same achingly gentle tone from when he had asked him to leave his duty before, only this time… this time it must be from Camelot, from his home.

Arthur explained, softly and sorrowfully how George had let himself in with the chambermaid to clear the pans away only a few minutes ago – that he foolishly didn’t realise that was when it was done, and that he was sorry, but that they had been seen the faint golden aura around Merlin as he had slept, and that he knew he couldn’t trust that the staff wouldn’t alert the king, and again that he was so sorry, and that he wished and he wanted…

Merlin barely heard any of it. He just stared and stared at Arthur’s face, his wet eyes, the sad downturn of his lovely mouth, the one that had kissed him and whispered words of love into his hair when he thought he was asleep.

“I can’t lose you Merlin, it would kill me, do you understand?”

He continued to stare dumbly because he did, and it was breaking him.

“It will take time to change things. My father… I can’t risk you I love…”

Merlin stumbled into the forest, he hadn’t said goodbye to anyone, he couldn’t face them. It was just something else he could add to his list of regrets. He wondered numbly if it had been worth it, to be loved like that, to see and be seen but then to lose everything. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself convinced that he was coming apart because surely he was. Something hard and round dug into his rib from his inner jacket pocket – Ygraine’s sigil. Merlin sank down into the ground and sobbed, letting the earth hold him. The wind through the trees caressed his cheek in a cruel mimicry of a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I really am but this was in me somewhere and it wanted out. I have ideas to write more if there's interest?


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